


Skip Trace: He'eni

by Maygra



Series: Skip Trace [2]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: M/M, Skip Trace - A modern day Mag7 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:01:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27525019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maygra/pseuds/Maygra
Series: Skip Trace [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011756
Kudos: 5





	Skip Trace: He'eni

Skip Trace: He'eni

>   
>    
>    
> 
> 
> **He'eni**  
>  **By Maygra**
> 
> (Takes place the first night Vin stays with Chris and Buck and in which I take great liberties with the Shoshone rites of passage.) 
> 
> ++++ 
> 
> The bed was inviting, wide and firm, certainly a better mattress than Vin owned, ever. But even as he headed for it, he could have sworn the walls shifted, the room looked smaller. The door was a darker shadow. Outside the window the owl called out again. 
> 
> His totem, something he'd sought, thinking that maybe if he were more Shoshone than white, his life would make more sense. The ritual had worked and he'd seen the owl, he'eni, it followed him for days, it seemed. Even now, it seemed ironic that the owl should be the animal that aided people in finding things, be it secrets or knowledge -- or fugitives. He'd wanted knowledge then, about who he was and where he fit in to a people and a family and a life that was different than what he'd known. He'd wanted to know why his grandfather had brought him to the Shoshone, and why he'd then left him in a strange place with no kin, and why it had taken him so long to find his grandson. 
> 
> The last bit, Vin had discovered, although not from his grandfather, but from Kojay. No more than a bureaucratic fluke, seven years after Vin's mother had died and the county that had registered her death was clearing out old records, old personnel. Some clerk had found the box with all that remained of what his mother had with her when she died. Clothes, some cheap dime store jewelry, her purse. And inside her purse were letters she had written but never mailed. The clerk had boxed it up and shipped it all to the address on the letter -- the one that started "Dear Dad." 
> 
> His grandfather hadn't known about him, and he'd never really gotten a straight answer on how his mother and her father had lost touch or why. It had taken Joshua Tanner a couple of years to track him down through the Texas Child services, taken him a couple of months more to prove he had claim to Vin at all. He'd only met the man a couple of times when he was pulled from foster care and taken north. 
> 
> Vin had hated it. Hated Wyoming, hated his grandfather, hated that his grandfather expected him to embrace the tribal life and ways when he'd had fourteen years to learn to be a whole different kind of person. He'd hated being so closely watched, and been wary of Magete and Kojay, and Chanu too at first. But they'd been patient and kind and Chanu, right from the start, had been more than willing to tell him when he was being an asshole. It had taken that, believing that Chanu was telling him straight up about things, good and bad, that made him realize the adults -- the new adults in his life -- were being straight with him too. 
> 
> And just when he thought he had it figured, that he could settle some, trust that this time things wouldn't change and him have no say in it�his Grandfather had died. 
> 
> Things hadn't changed much, save that he'd moved from the cabin his grandfather had lived in, the one that was now charred and probably unsalvageable, into the ranch house with Kojay and Magete and Chanu. Sharing a room with Chanu wasn't that much different than sharing one with his Grandfather except Chanu didn't snore so loud. But he'd been angry anyway, and afraid. 
> 
> And ultimately relieved when Kojay had stood for him in front of the tribe, taken him as a son, made the tribe accept him as one of them. But he hadn't made it easy and pretty much done everything he could think of to push Kojay and Magete and Chanu to cutting him loose, wanting to be the one that made it happen and certain that it would. 
> 
> It hadn't worked out that way though. Oh, his backside had felt the flat of Kojay's hand more than once, Vin complaining that the wouldn't be spanked like a baby, that he was a man, and Kojay challenging him to prove it -- prove it as the other young men did, in the way of the People, since he was one of them forever whether he wanted to be or not. 
> 
> He'd studied harder at those lessons than he did at school, had felt silly learning the dances the other boys his age had been practicing since childhood, the skills and the language, the stories and the history. But even as he studied, got frustrated, acted out and threw himself back into it, he'd found at least part of what he'd been looking for. 
> 
> Easier to see now than it had been at sixteen. Any psychologist could have told him that he wanted to belong to something, to someone, be part of something at the same time he fought against it. He'd learned the language the hard way, up country, during the summer, working the cattle herds, when his companions rarely spoke English and ignored Vin when he did. He'd learned to hunt and track and shoot, the latter being something that came naturally, made him proud when he could outshoot just about anybody. Been nervous as a cat when he'd been called upon one night to tell one of the stories he'd heard -- in Shoshone. 
> 
> And at the end of the summer there was a fandango, and they'd danced and talked and at the end, Kojay and a few other shaman had taken the boys, about twenty of them, back into the canyons, along the rivers. They'd told stories and slept under the stars and hunted for food. It had been Chanu who told him they were seeking the guidance of the spirits, to find their guides, to tell the elders of what they'd seen and dreamed. 
> 
> Maybe the elders had drugged their food, or maybe it was the minimal sustenance they'd foraged for. Vin remembered being hungry, he remembered that no matter what they found or caught, it had to be shared with all of them, down to a handful of berries or a single fish. 
> 
> He heard the owl, half remembered the book he'd read in school and been wary of it, thinking it was calling for his death, to warn him. And he hadn't said anything, kept seeking some guide, some understanding, but the damn owl had followed him into his dreams. He'd heard it waking and sleeping, seen it flit overhead, or burrow into the grasses, hunting mice, scaring up birds, swooping down over still pools of water. 
> 
> It had led him to food; swooped down on him when he'd been climbing some rocks and he'd ducked. Only to have the ledge above him suddenly give way. He'd have been hurt or killed if he had reached for it. The damn bird drove him crazy, always with the "who?" that sounded accusing and mocking. 
> 
> They'd neared the end of their trial and most of the boys had found their guides, seen their spirits, told their stories and their dreams. 
> 
> Kojay had asked him, only smiling when Vin told him he hadn't found anything, didn't know any more than he did when he started out, didn't know what he was doing. 
> 
> "Find out who you want to be, Vin. Who are you? Who you will be? Who can answer your questions. Who?" Kojay had said, and Vin had heard the owl then, seen it in Kojay's face, in his words, obvious or not. 
> 
> "What's an owl mean?" Because he couldn't remember anything but the book he'd read and he told Kojay that, shared his fear without naming it. 
> 
> "Have you seen an owl?" 
> 
> Kojay had laughed then, at Vin's stormy expression, and left him, angry and confused. He'd been too stubborn to go back to camp, feeling he was being made fun of, angry again and disappointed, tired and hungry. 
> 
> An owl had kept him company that night too; but it hadn't asked any questions. 
> 
> In his dreams Vin had found some answers, slept with the feeling of flying, of hunting in the dark, of seeking out secret places and seeing lost things. Not death then, although there was a secret there that only the dead knew, the dead and the owl who could move between this world and the next as easily as it moved between sky and earth. 
> 
> When he returned to camp, Vin had told his story, and the men and the soon-to-be-men had listened, and not laughed and been impressed in their own way that a creature of such knowledge and curiosity had come to him, chosen him. 
> 
> He'd been pretty impressed himself, right up until they'd been walking back home and an owl had flown low over them all and promptly let go a dropping right in front of Vin. 
> 
> Nobody laughed until Vin did. 
> 
> It was one of Chanu's favorite stories. One he brought up any time he thought Vin was getting to uppity or too much ahead of himself. 
> 
> The owl had followed him after that. Not so often, not always seen. It had followed him overseas in places no owl should be. It had apparently followed him to Georgia too. 
> 
> He listened for it again, felt the panic recede a bit, then reached down to pull the comforter off the bed, folding it over his arm. He couldn't hear it well enough with the walls so close and the attic fan running. 
> 
> In the darkness he headed back, stepping onto the porch and folding the fluffy blanket up until he had a decent pallet and spread it on the floor. 
> 
> The owl called him again and he opened the door to the deck, stepping out onto the dew-damp wood then flinched when lights came on, bright and harsh. He cursed softly glancing toward the windows and stepped back in to clear the motion detectors. It made sense he supposed, kept critters away from the house, but damn, he really hoped he hadn't woken Chris or Buck up. 
> 
> It was harder to get on the floor than he'd thought, but he managed it, closing his eyes against the lights. There went the owl again and he smiled. Okay, so he didn't need to see it, he just needed to know it was there. The insects started up again and he let them lull him to sleep, feeling exhausted but relaxed all at once.   
>  .... 
> 
> 6/5/08 
> 
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>   
> ---


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